Wednesday, June 2
I used to read myself to sleep,
Hiding under the covers with my fairytales,
Enchanted by the stories of courage and – love.
The beautiful princess always magically rescued
By her handsome prince, white horse and all.
I used to believe in fairytales,
That all ‘happily-ever-after’ took
Was one kiss by your Prince Charming,
And that glass slippers never broke.
Beauty seemed to equate goodness.
But I’ve grown up now, I know better.
I can’t be Cinderella, waiting for the ball.
Fairy godmothers have better things to do.
My glass slippers would crack with a single step,
And my pumpkin coach would leave stains on my gown.
I don’t believe in fairytales anymore –
I won’t be Ariel, falling in love with a pretty-boy
Who only knows and loves her voice.
I won’t trade my fins and the power of speech
For mere legs and a painful façade.
There’s no such thing as love at first sight.
If I were Snow White, I’d slap ‘my’ Prince
For daring to kiss me while I was asleep.
I’d steal his horse and kill my evil stepmother myself,
Then ride into the golden sunset. Alone.
I don’t believe in fairytales.
My pot of waiting, hidden gold is empty.
I’ve climbed over the rainbow for naught.
I can slay my own dragons, I just need a sword.
And I can be a princess, without marrying a prince.
it must've been love.
6:45 pm
xoxo
